


Four Winning Words

by suitesamba



Series: Four Words [8]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-26
Updated: 2012-06-26
Packaged: 2017-11-08 14:59:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry wins the British lottery, but no one’s life is going to change!</p>
<p><b>A/N:</b>  Series inspired by  the Facebook post question:  <i>"We wake up in (jail) together.  What's the first thing you say to me—use exactly four words"</i>  Thanks to  for the beta.</p>
<p><b>Disclaimer:</b> Not mine.  Never were.  Never will be.  No profit is being made from this amateur work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Four Winning Words

“I won the lottery.”

Harry spoke almost hesitantly. He was standing in the doorway of Severus’ office. Holly—Severus was certain it was Holly, as her shirt was torn at the shoulder seam and she had a bruise on her cheek—was standing at his feet, holding on to Harry’s leg with one arm and to a very worn plushie—the crup with half a missing tail—with the other.

Severus put down his quill and closed the accounting ledger before him on the desk. He arranged it carefully on top of the stack of ledgers to his right and finally looked back up at Harry.

“You won the lottery?” He sounded tired. “You aren’t pregnant again, are you? With triplets this time?”

Harry shook his head and grinned. It was a pained sort of grin.

“The lottery, Severus. The National Lottery. It’s…two million pounds.”

Severus’ eyebrows shot up, peaking over his nose. 

“I don’t want the money,” said Harry. “I have to go in person to claim it, and there’ll be photographers, and reporters…”

Holly had released Harry’s leg and was toddling over toward Severus. No—not toward Severus. She detoured and pulled on the leg of one of the tables that held Albus’ spindly instruments. The table came crashing down, but Severus used his wand to catch its contents before they hit the floor, and they floated to his desk while Holly waved bye-bye to them from her position on the floor.

“If you don’t want the money,” said Severus slowly, righting the table with his wand, then standing and fetching his daughter, “perhaps you could explain to me why you played in the first place?” Harry noticed a strange quiver in his voice. What was that about?

“I didn’t play—not on purpose anyway. Aunt Petunia sends me a ticket for my birthday every year. When I was in London this morning with Hermione, I saw that all the papers were reporting that the winner from this week’s drawing hadn’t come forward. So I checked my ticket….”

“You’re never checked your tickets before, have you?” asked Severus, shaking his head. “Who knows how many millions in unclaimed winnings you’ve passed up?”

“Severus, you’re being awfully calm about this.”

Severus had sat down again behind his desk, and Holly immediately reached for the ink bottle.

“We have three daughters and, while we are certainly not hurting financially, two million pounds is still…well, two million pounds.” Severus’ eyes caught Harry’s, shining almost madly. “You could establish a premier wizarding preschool with that type of money, hire the best teachers, enroll all three of our children….”

Harry rolled his eyes.

“Where _are_ Calla and Ivy, by the way?”

“Calla is with Minerva, and Poppy has Ivy.”

“Oh? You had to split them up?” Severus took the inkbottle out of Holly’s hand and reached into his top desk drawer for box of biscuits.

“You’ve got to be kidding,” said Harry. “No one will take more than one of them at a time anymore.”

“A well-paid, professionally trained magical nanny would,” said Severus. He held out a single goldfish cracker to Holly, who promptly grabbed it and stuck it in her mouth along with three of her fingers. 

“A nanny?” Harry walked slowly over to Severus’ desk. Severus looked up. Green eyes locked with dark brown. 

“Live-in, of course,” said Severus. “Unobtrusive. Perhaps French—the girls will need to learn a foreign language, and it’s not too early to start.”

“Manners,” said Harry. “Maybe someone a little older, firm…but kind.”

“Someone who has studied magical educational theory,” said Severus. He wiped Holly’s face with a handkerchief and she spit out a mouthful of mushy glop into it. He sighed.

“You know,” said Harry, walking around the desk and leaning over his shoulder. “Two million British pounds could open up a world of opportunities.” He kissed Severus’ neck, just below his ear. 

“Kiss!” squealed Holly. “Kiss Pa!”

Severus turned his head and met Harry’s mouth with his own. A press of lips, a swipe of tongue, an almost silent groan.

Holly squealed again in approval.

/

“Do I look alright?”

Harry fidgeted outside the official national lottery office in central London. He and Severus had chosen his clothing with incredible care, making Harry look as ordinary and nondescript as possible. He had on light grey trousers of a fairly coarse fabric, a white long-sleeve, button-down shirt, black leather shoes and a dark gray jacket. His glasses had been replaced by a pair with rectangular brown frames, and his hair cut fairly short. Harry kept rubbing his head, and Severus swatted his hand away. 

“Leave it! It looks fine, and we both know it will all grow back out by tomorrow morning!”

Harry had his Muggle identification with him, his bank card, and Hermione’s parents’ address. 

And the ticket. The winning lottery ticket.

He wiped sweaty hands on the seat of his pants, and Severus once again swatted at him.

“You’re going in with me, aren’t you?” asked Harry nervously.

“Would a solicitor stand out in the hallway while his client went in to claim his two million pound winnings?” asked Severus. He was dressed in a black Muggle suit with a conservative navy blue tie. On his wrist was an expensive-looking watch, and he was carrying a leather briefcase with two locks.

“Right. Let’s go, then.”

After a grueling three hours spent filling out a mountain of paperwork and discussing bank drafts and investment taxes and charitable contributions and (Merlin, no!) promotional appearances, Harry Potter dropped into a chair near the door of the reception area. They had been warned that the press had gotten wind that a winner had come forward (Harry eyed the receptionist suspiciously) and would be waiting outside the building. He was in no hurry to leave.

“Well, is it enough?” he asked Severus.

“Enough?” Severus’ eyes gleamed. “A bank draft for two million pounds and change, made payable to you and accessible on Monday?” His eyes shone brighter. “Enough for a live-in nanny for twenty years, I’d say, plus University education for the girls and a few extras.”

“I don’t think we’ll need a nanny when the girls are nearly 22,” said Harry. He stood up. “Come on, let’s go find the men’s room so we can Apparate out of here,” he said in a low voice.

“Hmmm,” said Severus. “The men’s room, you say?”

He followed Harry down the short passage. Harry pushed open the door marked “Gents” and looked under the stall door.

“No one in here,” he said. He turned to Severus. “Meet you at the front gates, then?”

“Not quite yet,” said Severus. He turned and locked the door behind him, eyeing Harry. “All this talk of pounds and bank drafts has made me…hungry.”

“Hungry?” Harry looked puzzled. “We’re in the _loo_ , Severus. Surely you can wait to eat until we get home?”

“Who said anything about eating…food?” asked Severus, reaching out with his left hand to unfasten Harry’s top shirt button, while his other hand reached for Harry’s belt buckle.

“You’re horny?” Harry asked in disbelief as Severus pushed him back against the side of the single stall in the room. “You’re horny after _that_ experience?” He looked down as Severus pulled his belt out of his trouser loops and reached in to fondle his quiescent cock.

“Something about me you didn’t know, then,” purred Severus. He pulled the end of the belt from behind Harry, between his legs, and ran it back and forth slowly, rubbing it against Harry’s bollocks. “Money _arouses_ me.” He pulled up on both ends of the belt and Harry groaned.

“And not just the money itself,” continued Severus, pulling the end of the belt from the back, then from the front again, tantalizingly slow, caressing Harry’s awakening cock. “But the thought of what it can bring us…a few rare potions ingredients, that trip to New Zealand, and peace…of…mind.” He punctuated each word with short pulls on the belt.

“I had money…once…” breathed Harry, suddenly finding himself stuck to the outer stall wall, hands splayed out against the metal, feet just barely on the floor, legs spread and trousers and pants down around his ankles . He had absolutely no idea how Severus had managed to both pin and undress him so quickly. 

“Ah….the fabled Black estate. A generous gift to your godson at a time when you didn’t know you would have children of your own. This…” he slid the briefcase, filled with copies of the paperwork Harry had filled out to claim his millions, over the floor and to the wall with his foot. “ _This_ makes up for it.”

He dropped to his knees in front of Harry and palmed Harry’s cock.

“You’re on the floor of a Muggle loo,” said Harry, voice both incredulous and raw. Something – something about prim-and-proper Severus letting down his inhibitions like this – made him nearly ache with need.

“I am,” said Severus. He looked up at Harry and licked his lips. “And I am about to fellate—then sodomize—the U.K.’s newest millionaire.”

The mouth descended on his cock, moving quickly to the base, taking in the entire length until the tip of the quickly hardening prick hit the back of his throat. Harry groaned, sinking into the sensation, the delicious pull, the overpowering _want_.

“Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes, trying desperately to thrust into Severus’ hot mouth. “Fuck! Severus! We’re millionaires!”

/

“I can’t believe I let it go to my head like that,” sighed Severus two months later. “In the loo of all places. That filthy, public loo.”

“It was filthy, wasn’t it?” said Harry with a fond sigh, though he wasn’t talking about the cleanliness of the loo at all. He gave Ivy another push on the swing, then Holly, then Ivy again. Calla was sitting on the ground on the other side of the play yard at Mr. Aubert’s feet. The new nanny, a 70-year-old French wizard, was working out admirably, and Calla was singing the alphabet—in French—while the old gentleman kept time with his wand, using it like a baton.

“E grek!” called out Ivy.

“Zed!” added Holly with a squeal. Holly was _always_ squealing.

The girls giggled.

“Higher, Da!” called out Holly.

“You’re sure?” Severus walked over and stood behind Ivy’s swing. She laughed as he pushed her higher, too.

Harry pushed Holly. “I’m sure.” 

“I suppose naming her Lou is out of the question?”

Harry snorted. “It would work for a boy too,” he mused.

“Well, we certainly have room for another,” said Severus. “Hogwarts just keeps adding rooms to our quarters. And money won’t be a problem.”

“It will if you don’t quit buying those life-sized plushies of every creature in ‘Magical Beasts and Where to Find Them.’”

“Holly likes plushies,” defended Severus, rather self-righteously. “The niffler is…sweet.”

“And the quintaped?” challenged Harry.

“So is the fwooper,” continued Severus, ignoring Harry.

“What about the acromantula?”

“She likes them,” Severus repeated. “Even the unpleasant ones.”

“The basilisk?”

“I was rather disappointed in that one,” said Severus. “It was something less than life-sized.”

“We’d need another suite of rooms to store a life-sized stuffed basilisk,” said Harry.

“It’s fortunate, then, that Ivy likes cars and not plushies,” said Severus.

“ _Toy_ cars,” said Harry. “You didn’t have to get her a _real_ car.”

“It was a small automobile,” protested Severus. “A 1963 Mini. It hardly takes up any room at all. It’s certainly no bigger than the stuffed acromantula.”

“Hmph,” said Harry, sounding very much like Severus.

“This might be a good time to mention the doll house…”

“Calla loves her doll house!” said Harry immediately.

“What little girl wouldn’t love a replica of Queen Mary’s doll house?” said Severus.

“Do you think it’s over the top?” asked Harry, giving Holly another push and glancing at Severus.

“Well, considering I am responsible for the Mini,” answered Severus. “And the acromantula plushie...”

“We have no business being parents,” sighed Harry.

Severus gave a slightly wicked smile. “The acromantula paid for itself the first time Weasley visited.”

“You know,” said Harry a few minutes later. “When this baby comes, we’re going to have more children than any of the younger Weasleys.”

“Wimps,” Severus said under his breath.

Harry grinned. 

As they walked back into the castle some time later, the twins following with Mr. Aubert and Calla skipping ahead, Harry turned to Severus.

“Insects—maybe an ant farm. Or an aquarium full of guppies.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Come again?”

“The new baby—no more giant plushies, or Muggle automobiles, or doll houses that take up a whole room. This child is going to like something small.”

Severus nodded. He could think of plenty of small things. Diamonds, for example. Diamonds were small.

It was lunchtime at Hogwarts, and students were milling about the courtyard, passing time between the end of lunch period and the first afternoon class. In the month since Mr. Aubert had joined their family (they had known immediately that he was the one when, during the interview, he had oh-so-casually caught up Holly as she ran by, sitting her on the table in front of him and doing _something_ to her shoelaces so they stayed tied, and she didn’t trip over them and tumble down again), Harry and Severus had spent every after-lunch period with the girls and their nanny ( _Tutor!_ , said Severus). Already they were calmer and breathing easier. Ivy was using more words, and they were all sleeping better at night. 

“Interesting that you haven’t gone overboard on yourself, considering what you’ve brought home for the girls,” mused Harry that evening as he struggled with the stuffed hippocampus. Holly picked out a different plushie each night to watch over the nursery, and tonight, the half-horse, half-fish was to guard the door. He managed to wedge the monstrosity into a corner of the room and leaned against the wall, panting. “Thank Merlin you just converted Ivy’s car into a bed and we don’t have to drag it into the room every night.”

“Overboard?” asked Severus innocently. “Me?”

Interestingly, Mr. Aubert didn’t seem at all disturbed by the monstrous plushies, the Mini-turned-Toddler Bed, or the dollhouse that had its own post code. He seemed to take everything in stride, in fact, and was using the enormous 1920s era dollhouse for lessons on British royalty, one of his obsessions. Calla could already name the kings and queens of England back to George I, including cause of death (cerebral hemorrhage) and coronation year (1714).

Harry sighed. He looked from the huge hippocampus to the Mini-turned-bed to Severus, standing near the door looking fondly at the chaotic room. “This isn’t the life I imagined,” he said, “and you are not the man I once thought you were.”

Severus raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Harry smiled tiredly. He slipped into Severus’ arms, pressed a kiss against the corner of his mouth, and wrapped his arms around Severus’s waist. “It’s so much more,” he said after a quiet moment, each listening to the beat of the other’s heart. “And so, Severus Snape, are you.”

_Fin_


End file.
